Conversations Along the Road
by Willow-wode
Summary: Sam speaks of his concerns upon the road to a quiet and considerate companion


CONVERSATIONS ALONG THE ROAD  
  
  
  
Well, I've lost count how how many days it's been. Mister Gandalf was saying forty days to the misted mountains... hold on there. He said Misty Mountains. Well, I'll be--we're going to be in one of the places mister Bilbo used to tell me about.  
  
Stand still, there--how'm I s'posed to get out that rock if you don't stand still? Give me your foot... Good boy.  
  
I don't know about all this, I'll tell you that plain. Whoa, there, now... It's like my whole life's gone crackers, or something. I'm not in the Shire, I've seen the elves--eaten with them, spoke to them!--and now we're all on this journey...what'd Pippin call it? A quest?  
  
A question, more like. And I'm not sure any of us are knowing the answers.  
  
There's an elf with us, you know. 'Course you know, he scratches your neck in that exact spot you like... see, I know it, too... and gives you treats. Legolas is a fine fellow. He don't seem real, still. He flits about our camp at night like a lightning bug, his hair gleaming in the moonshine and his eyes glowing. I don't think he ever sleeps. Leastways, I've never seen him. Two nights ago I couldn't sleep as well, and he sat with me, showed me the stars and what the elves call them. Earendil is the main one I remember. And that bit of stars what Frodo used to call the plough, Legolas called it the hammer. Said 'twas the hammer their most famous smith used to craft the Great Rings.  
  
I think I'm gonna be right tired of the sight of rings before this journey's done, Bill.  
  
Look at those two, clowning about again. Still, Merry's quite the juggler. You'd rather be eating those apples, I suspect, than watching two hobbits tossing 'em about. You wouldn't mind that he's taken a bit from each one as he throws it. I think it's so he can eat all three of them, myself... Pippin's thrown him two more. Five. I expect disaster's looming any time, now...  
  
Boromir's laughing fit to kill. Even Strider's taken with the giggles. Strider. Now there's an odd one, don't you think, Bill? Not that I mean that in a bad way. There's none I'd rather have with us now. Of course when we first met I wasn't so sure--but then hauling Frodo off like he did got all our backs up. Pippin and Merry were right with me there. None of us were too sure of old Strider then. But now... there's none I'd rather have at our side, or protecting us. He just seems... I dunno, so sad sometimes. It's good to see him laugh. I s'pose he misses his lady. Now she was a beauty! I know you remember her; she's not one likely forgotten.  
  
I miss my lady too, Bill. I guess she's really not my lady, but I wish she was. Mebbe she's not as fine or fancy as Lady Arwen, but she's just as beautiful. Her name's Rose. She's got hair like a sunny wheatfield and cheeks round and pink as those apples Merry's still somehow tossing about. He's not dropped them yet... I expect some other lad will have taken her up by the time we get home. Frodo was always telling me that she only had eyes my direction, but I dunno. I hope that she understands, somehow. That she doesn't think I've just gone haring off to never come home. I hope she misses me.  
  
Hold on, now, got some dirt in my eye. Just clouds of it coming off you. You keep rolling in the sand when I'm not watching, don't you?  
  
There they go. Merry's dropped all but one. Boromir's wiping tears from his eyes. Now he's something else, Boromir. He's really opened up. He wasn't too fond, I'm thinking, of this journey or any of us at first. Wasn't sure I trusted him, either. But he's a fine gentleman. Calls me plain Sam like I was on his level--which I'm not sure I'm comfortable with, mind. Gaffer's always on at me, said I didn't know my proper place. But Boromir--he's noble blooded, no doubt, yet he's not always on about it. From what the others were saying, he's got a whole kingdom counting on him. I'm sure glad I'm just Samwise--wouldn't be wanting that kind of load on my shoulders!  
  
Wups, speaking of shoulders, there's a bit of mud I missed. Hold still, there. Tickles, does it? Look at that lip go! All right then, I'll scratch harder!  
  
Gimli likes you too, doesn't he? Doesn't say much--old Bilbo used to say that dwarves could be frightful chatty, but not Gimli. He nods at me, pats you; helped me rub you down two nights ago as well. Wasn't too chatty then, either. But he hasn't offered since--think he figured out that I like doing this, not just doing it because I have to. Gimli's a pretty wise fellow, I think, even if he seems cranky. 'Cepting of course, he's a bit blindered about elves. I'm not understanding that at all. He's certainly not too fond of Legolas. I'm just glad those eyes don't glare at *me* like that! But now he's chuckling at those boys; crouched there, smoking his pipe, his eyes all crinkled up with laughter. I swear, Pippin's got no sense some days; every time he tries to snatch an apple from Merry, Merry's landing him on his backside with a sideways kick. Quick on his feet, Merry. But Pippin keeps coming back for more. Can't say he gives up easily.  
  
Wups, now Frodo's getting in on the act. *This* should be interesting. He can't juggle to save his life...  
  
Where's that dratted brush? Hey, you're standing on it, Bill. Ease over... ow! Get off m' foot, dammit!  
  
I think you leaned into me on purpose, you rotter. And after all I'm doing for you. You've just got a bit of the wicked about you some days.  
  
Oh, isn't *that* fine. Frodo threw three apples in the air; one smacked him in the nose, one hit the dirt and the last one hit Mr. Gandalf. Frodo looks like he did that time Bilbo found us in the wine cellar trying to open his best bottle of old Winyards, all big-eyed and 'oh, murder!'. If 'twas Pippin I'd say he looks that way on purpose to get out of trouble. Gandalf's trying not to smile, I think. He doesn't seem like a wizard, somehow. Oh, I'm not saying that he don't scare the daylight out of me sometimes. When he dragged me over that sill the night all this mess started I thought I was going to end out my days as some toad crouched under Bag-End's window! Instead, here I am. And Gandalf's not so bad is he, Bill? He's older than the Old Took ever thought of being, but he's keeping just fine. Better than me, some days. Thought I was pretty fit, but this has been a long road and no mistake. And it's just going to get longer, it seems.  
  
Frodo's gonna try again. Everyone had best duck, if they're wanting *my* opinion... hey! What d'you know. He's doing it. He ever seems surprised...  
  
Ah, I see it now. Gandalf's giving him a hand with that magic of his. Probably in self-defense. Look at Frodo, grinning like an idiot. With one hand, now. Cocky bugger. Strider's going to bust something if he don't just let loose and give a good belly laugh. Boromir's rolling. Even Legolas is grinning.  
  
Well, you're coat's all shined up now, isn't it? I'd rather be here by you- -safer, I suspect, with all those apples ready to fly at any time. But here, now, you've got burrs in your tail. Maybe I should thin your tail up a bit; you catch sticker-bushes like nothing I've seen.  
  
Is it just me, or is there something kind of desperate in the way Frodo's acting lately? He only pulls this kind of tomfoolery when he's anxious or really intent over something.  
  
Why'd he do it, Bill? Why'd he agree to take that damn Ring? I just don't understand it; thought we had it all mapped out. Leave the Ring at Rivendell, go back home where things could go back to normal again. Maybe marry Rose--do y'think she'd have me, Bill?--and settle down. Have a family. Keep the gardens at Bag-End because Frodo manages to kill most of what he tries to raise from seed. Got to find him a wife that knows her stuff about the house and garden but that also doesn't mind the books, because he'd sure be miserable with someone who didn't at least understand that sort of stuff. Not going to be easy, finding a girl for him. They all think he's too odd: the way he looks and the way he acts, but mostly the way he thinks. Well, maybe he don't cover the ground he stands on as well as most hobbits. Maybe he likes his lonesomeness a bit too much. Maybe he does think too much. But he wouldn't be Frodo any other way now, would he? And Rosie likes him. I once saw them sitting atop Bag-End, him reading part of a book to her and she was really enjoying it. Some adventure story. I told him then he ought to go for her, but he just looked at me real odd and laughed. Said Rosie was his friend, and I was his friend, and he wasn't walking *that* road one step.  
  
It's getting darker. Suns's just set, and... there. Tail's clean as it can be. A little oil should see that you don't pick up so many burrs. I'll bet Strider's got some; he's always caring for his sword these nights.  
  
Well, I understand now what Frodo meant-about Rose, that is. I didn't then. But Bill, my heart's always knowing things before my brain sometimes. I'll bet you know what I mean. People think ponies are dumb, but they're not. They just see things different, is all.  
  
Frodo's dropped all the apples again; Gandalf gave up helping him and that was all there was to that. Everyone ducked as they went flying. I'll get one for you, Bill, if Merry doesn't get to 'em first.  
  
Ha. Nicked it from under their noses. Frodo grinned at me as I scarpered back here; he saw. But that grin's not fooling me. I saw him testing that left shoulder again. He doesn't think anyone noticed, but I did.  
  
I just don't know, Bill. He worries me. I'm not sure if he can do this. And I'm not sure I'm strong enough to help him do this. If we didn't have the fellowship we'd be in dark water, sure enough. But maybe you'll help me, eh? When we fall--when *he* falls--I'll just put him on your broad back and you'll carry him up those mountains.  
  
I'm sure glad we're all here, all of us together, Bill. 'Cause I don't see how we could ever do this alone.  
  
* * * * * * 


End file.
